After the Bridge
by shadesofstory
Summary: The aftermath of the midseason 5 finale. Because I got too impatient to wait until February and had to use my imagination in the mean time. Oneshot.


**Hey friends. This is a oneshot that follows the events of the midseason 5 finale because who can wait until February? Not me. I hope you all enjoy and comment or don't enjoy and ignore. ;) **

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><p>"Jane!"<p>

Dr. Maura Isle's voice ripped through the cold stillness of the Boston night as Detective Jane Rizzoli plunged into the water ninety feet below.

Maura could not accept what happened. She screamed her best friend's name again before she realized she was still capable of speaking.

The logical side of her brain fried as it tried to grasp the fact that Jane had been standing on a bridge one second, risking her own life to save a stranger's, and then, the next second, she had just been gone.

_Jane jumped off the bridge._

Her eyes insisted on continuing to try and get her brain to process the information. It replayed in her head a dozen times within seconds of the ripples disappearing in the water.

But if Jane jumped off the bridge then she would almost certainly be dead. The human body wasn't meant to survive a fall of 90 feet, even into water. And Jane couldn't be dead.

Jane couldn't be dead.

Maura felt her lungs contract, and her heart immediately began to try and compensate by pumping harder. She was going into shock. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she had to fight it.

And that was it. That word. Fight.

_Fight._

Jane would fight if she could. But she jumped.

_Jane jumped off the bridge. _

She jumped, so she couldn't fight. Clarity bit back at the fog clouding the doctor's mind. Jane couldn't fight anymore. So Maura had to fight for her.

"Jane!"

Maura searched the dark water desperately for a glimpse of dark hair or pale skin, but she saw only blackness. Maura stared into the seemingly endless void and forced herself to think.

The bridge was 90 feet high. That was five feet more than the height professional cliff divers jumped from. The current of the river would break her fall somewhat, propelling her both down and forward, so there was a chance that if the river was over forty feet deep she wouldn't have hit the bottom. Maura had to assume that she hadn't hit the bottom. Because if she had then her odds of survival went from low to none. She swallowed the bile rising in the back of her throat and ran across the road. The current would have taken her under the bridge.

She didn't know how she managed to climb down the steep drop slope from the road to the river bank, but she did know one of her Jimmy Choo heels had slowed her down in the mud, and she kicked it off without a second thought. Her entire focus was on the vast blackness of the river. She had already called 911. They were on their way. Ten minutes, they had said. Ten minutes.

Ten minutes before Jane jumped off the bridge- and there it was, that phrase again: _Jane jumped off the bridge_- they had been speeding through the streets of Boston to reach a man before he had the chance to end his life. Jane had been tense, but she had been joking around anyway.

_"You know Maura," she had said, "I would be a much better high speed chase driver if you didn't flinch every time I have to change lanes or run a red light."_

_"Am I allowed to flinch when you do both at the same time?"_

_Jane paused in pseudo thought. And then she answered. "No."_

_Maura laughed. "Of course not."_

_"It's distracting when you're backseat driving all the time." She gasped. "Dr. Isles, I may have discovered you actually have a bad habit!"_

_"First of all, I think it's quite clear I'm not in the backseat. Given my location here, in the passenger seat."_

_Jane rolled her eyes. Maura ignored her._

_"Second, we're not involved in a high speed chase. That would imply we're chasing someone. Which we aren't."_

_"Are we having this conversation to distract me from worrying about this guy or just to annoy the hell out of me?"_

_Maura smiled. "Both?"_

_Jane shook her head, but when she turned to look at her friend they met each others eyes and neither could stop themselves from laughing._

Ten minutes ago Maura had been laughing. She waded into the frigid water as far as she dared. The hem of her dress immediately stuck to her knees. Ten minutes ago she had been laughing, and it suddenly felt like she would never laugh again.

"Jane!"

More black water. It rushed past, the sound nearly drowning out the traffic passing on the bridge above. It splashed up against Maura's thighs and she slapped back it, her expertly trained hands thrashing uselessly against the current. "Jane, please!"

She waded out farther, shivering as the water rose to her waist. It was difficult to keep her footing on the rocks, and the current threatened to pull her in. "Jane," she said again, having to focus to stop her teeth from shattering, "Jane, the human brain can last about four minutes without oxygen. I need you to come up soon."

The only answer was the river. She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened and took a deep breath. When she opened them again nothing had changed. "Jane, remember that day outside the precinct when you went all Bambi and shot yourself? When I watched that happen, I thought it would be the worst thing I could ever see. But I was wrong, Jane." She paused, and when she spoke again her voice was louder. "I was wrong, do you hear me saying that? I was wrong! At least I could see you then. I could get to you and try and help you. The worst thing I've ever seen wasn't you falling outside the precinct that day as a bullet ripped through your body. The worst thing I've ever seen is you disappearing under the water."

Maura was crying now, and she couldn't help it. She knew it was irrational to hate the river- it didn't steal her best friend on purpose- but its steady indifference was infuriating. "Jane! Jane, up until today the best thing I've ever seen was you opening your eyes in the hospital after you got out of surgery that day. You opened your eyes and you looked at me, and I knew you would be okay. I need a new best thing, Jane." Her voice had gone hoarse. She dropped it to a whisper. "I have a new worst thing, so I need a new best thing. I need to see you come out of this water."

She closed her eyes again, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please, this cannot be how it ends," she muttered, and then realized to her surprise that this new form of communication, this last desperate attempt to save her friend, it could almost be considered a prayer. "I know so much about so many things," she continued, her eyes still cold and her legs growing numb from the icy water. "I've spent my life learning everything I could about the sciences of the world. I know so much about so many things." Maura paused to take a shaky breath; she could feel her heart rate slowing, responding to the cold water. "I know so much about so many things," she repeated, "but none of it matters. Because I don't know how to live a life without Jane. I don't know. I don't know. I don't-"

Something bumped against her legs. Her eyes flew open.

Jane bobbed face down next to her the current nudging the detective's body against Maura's legs.

Maura registered several things happening all at once- her mind went blank with shock, her hands flew into motion, her stomach seemed to drop while her heart rocketed up into her throat. Meanwhile, someone seemed to be screaming Jane's name. Maura looked around, saw no one, and realized it was her.

She stopped immediately and continued to drag the limp body of her best friend toward the shore. "Jane," she whispered, "Jane, stay with me. Please still be here with me." The detective's skin felt like ice and her black hair hung limp and dragged through the water. With a strength she didn't know she had, Maura managed to haul Jane onto the shore and immediately knelt next to her. She brushed Jane's tangled hair away from her face. Her cheeks were drawn and her lips were a startlingly pale blue. Maura lowered her ear to Jane's chest and listened. She could hear a faint heartbeat. But no breath sounds.

The doctor in Maura took over, almost like muscle memory. She forced herself not to focus on the details of her friend. She didn't look the silver watch hanging loose on her wrist. She didn't look at her slim fingers, almost porcelain the in the moonlight. The place in her cheek where her dimples showed when she smiled. The lankiness of her legs. Instead, she tipped her head back, opened her mouth, and breathed into her. She pushed all the air from her lungs into her best friend's. She hardly paused to breath herself, she was so focused on making sure Jane was breathing.

She switched to chest compressions, willing Jane's lethargic heart to pick up speed, to oxygenate the blood, to bring Jane back to her. She continued CPR until her arms felt dead and she was sweating from lack of oxygen and overexertion. But she didn't care. Maura knew only three things could stop her from continuing to try and save Jane. The first was Jane waking up. The second was the EMTs arriving. The third was Maura's own death. She took another deep breath, preparing to again fill Jane's sodden lungs, but just as she was leaning down, Jane coughed.

Maura jerked back and rolled Jane quickly onto her side, allowing her friend to gag and splutter the icy water out of her. "Jane, you're going to be alright. You're going to be okay. Just breathe honey, alright? Just breathe."

Jane finished choking out the water and stayed on her side, drawing one shaky breath after another. Maura rubbed her back, hardly daring to believe what was happening. She had been so sure Jane had been gone. She had almost braced herself for the inevitable fall into grief. But Jane was alive. Coughing and crying, but alive.

Finally, after Maura counted 47 more of Jane's labored breaths, the detective spoke.

"You pulled me out of the river?"

Maura nodded. "You jumped off the bridge."

"You said I pulled a Bambi. What the hell is a Bambi?"

Maura laughed. It was more out of desperation and relief than anything else. She couldn't take her eyes off of her friend; she couldn't stop soaking in the fact that she was alive. Her eyes were open. "How the hell did you hear that?"

"Well, I was struggling to not drown and my head popped up for about half a second and I heard you yelling something about me going all Bambi. Which made me laugh because obviously the idea of me shooting myself being called a Bambi- I'm pretty sure you meant Rambo, by the way- was hilarious. I think it made me almost drown more."

Maura was laughing harder now, still struggling to breathe through her tears. "Seriously? You're blaming me for your near drowning?"

"No, I'm blaming you for almost making me drown more."

"You either drown or you don't, Jane. You can't drown more."

Another racking cough from Jane stalled the conversation for a second. She winced and grabbed her ribs, unable to hide the grimace. But then a smile replaced it. "Okay, you win. I didn't drown at all."

Maura's eyes narrowed in concern. "Thank God for that. But you are hurt. Judging from the discomfort breathing seems to be causing you, I would say you probably have several fractured ribs."

Jane closed her eyes. "You know, my legs and feet aren't feeling too hot either now that you mention it."

"It's amazing you even survived a fall like that. I wouldn't be surprised if you've sustained internal injuries as well."

"How comforting."

The red and blue flashing lights of an approaching ambulance reflected off the water and lit up the women's faces. Maura looked up. Jane lifted her hand to Maura's face and pulled her down closer. "Thank you for saving my life, Maura Isles. I don't know what I would do without you."

Maura frowned. "Die probably."

Jane laughed lightly, wincing again. "Probably."

As the EMTs made their way down the embankment, Maura held onto Jane's hand, which slowly warmed in her grip. Ten minutes had passed. She had laughed again already. Jane was alive.

Jane jumped off the bridge.

But she was alive.


End file.
